


Fireside Chats

by beautiful_fiscal_siren



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Missing Scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautiful_fiscal_siren/pseuds/beautiful_fiscal_siren
Summary: Eight late-night conversations reveal a side to Howl that Sophie never got to see. (Takes place during the book "Howl's Moving Castle.")
Relationships: Sophie Hatter/Howl Pendragon
Comments: 3
Kudos: 95





	Fireside Chats

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 takes place before Chapter 1.  
> Part 2 takes place after Chapter 1.  
> Part 3 takes place after Chapter 5.  
> Part 4 takes place after Chapter 6.   
> Part 5 takes place after Chapter 7.   
> Part 6 takes place after Chapter 11.  
> Part 7 takes place during Chapter 12.  
> Part 8 takes place after Chapter 21.

**1**

Howl stepped inside from the Waste, slamming the castle door against the harsh, wild winds. He dropped his cloak over the entryway railing and flopped into his chair by the hearth. 

“Suliman’s gone,” Howl said. “That blasted king sent him after the Witch of the Waste, and he hasn’t returned.”

“Suliman? Royal Wizard Suliman?” Calcifer rose sleepily from his grate.

“The one and only,” said Howl dolefully. 

“Damn it,” spat Calcifer. “He was our best chance of breaking this stupid contract. If he’s dead...”

Howl heaved a sigh. “I doubt he’s actually dead, but that doesn’t change the facts right now. We weren’t making much progress with Suliman, anyway. I don’t think he liked me much.”

Calcifer hissed and popped irritably. “Well, you’d better find someone to break it, soon. I’m getting sick of this bloody heart.”

**2**

On May Day, Howl pranced into the castle, looking happier than Calcifer had seen him in ages. He twirled around, humming, before landing in the stool at his workbench. 

“Found a new plaything, did you?” asked Calcifer. 

“I met a girl today with the most extraordinary magic,” said Howl, leaning on one hand dreamily. “I’ve never seen anything like it.  _ She  _ could break our contract; I’d bet anything.”

Calcifer reared up with interest. 

“If only I could get her here somehow…” Howl muttered. “I wonder where she lives... Said she was on her way to… somewhere… a sister? Gorgeous eyes… She seemed jumpy for some reason, but maybe if I… with the guitar…”

Calcifer settled back down, sizzling disappointedly. “Stay away from me; you’re drooling.”

**3**

It was late at night, and Sophie’s incessant meddling had put Howl in a mood. She had gone to sleep in her little room under the stairs, but Howl sat up for a long time, reorganizing his workbench, or rather, re-messing it up. 

“Why’d you let that old hag inside in the first place?” hissed Howl, after casting a spell to keep Sophie from overhearing. 

“She may be an old hag,” Calcifer said, “but she’s got a particular magic that I think could be very helpful to us. You’d best be kind to her.”

“Does she really? Hm...” Howl paused his organizing and stared out the dark window for a long time. “Blast it,” he said finally. “Why does she look so familiar? Calcifer, do you know if she’s apprenticed any wizards? Maybe Mrs. Pentstemmon introduced us?”

“Actually,” crackled Calcifer, “I don’t think she even knows she’s a witch.” 

Howl was bewildered. “How could a woman live so long with so much magical power and not know it?”

“How, indeed?” Calcifer sizzled.

**4**

Howl sulked by the fire all evening waiting for Sophie to go to sleep. Luckily, she turned in rather early, no doubt exhausted from cleaning up Howl’s impressive heap of green slime. When all was quiet, Howl flicked his hand violently to cast a muffling spell, then snapped his head up to glare at Calcifer. 

“Did you know Sophie was under a spell?” Howl asked darkly.

Calcifer squirmed and flickered.

“Answer me!”

Now Calcifer flared up in annoyance. He stretched out two tendrils of flame and imitated putting his hands on his hips. “So what if I did know? You don’t tell me everything you know, do you?”

“You  _ stupid  _ demon,” Howl moaned. “While I was visiting Lettie today, I just happened to be struck by how similar her features were to Sophie’s, and I asked Lettie if she was related to a woman called Sophie.” He stood up and began pacing. “ _ Sisters!  _ Calcifer, you should have seen the look on her face. She undoubtedly thought I ate her sister’s heart. There’s no way Lettie will ever, ever love me now.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that…” Calcifer mumbled.

“ _ Why  _ didn’t you tell me?” Howl demanded.

“Well,” Calcifer began nervously, “Given how you act with young women, I determined that Sophie’s chances of staying around long enough to figure out our contract were better if you paid her as little attention as possible.”

Howl laughed bitterly. “You really thought there was any chance I’d fall in love with that—that nuisance?” 

“Did you give me all your self-awareness when you gave me your heart, you horrible flirt?” sizzled Calcifer. 

“Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid  _ to keep this from me. I don’t understand you at all sometimes, Calcifer.”

Howl walked to Sophie’s cupboard-room and cracked the curtain. She was sleeping soundly, wheezing just a little. Howl whispered a few potent words, but they seemed to be sucked from his mouth instantly, not even reaching his own ears. Sophie didn’t stir.

“Damnation...” Howl muttered, flinging himself back down in his chair. 

“Don’t get so worked up,” said Calcifer. “You’re going to Kingsbury tomorrow, aren’t you? Talk to Mrs. Pentstemmon. You’ll get this curse broken before you know it, and Lettie will be so grateful to you for saving her sister that she’ll fall madly in love with you, after which you can forget all about her and go back to being only half-senseless.”

**5**

The next evening, Calcifer called out to Howl after Sophie had gone to bed. 

“Well?” Calcifer asked.

“Mrs. Pentstemmon says there’s not much she can do unless I bring Sophie to her in person,” sighed Howl. “She reckons the curse was put on by the Witch of the Waste. We might be able to chip away at it, though. She gave me a few ideas for spells we could try.”

“That’s something, at least,” said Calcifer. 

Howl stared at the floor for a long minute. “I just wish I knew  _ why  _ the Witch of the Waste would go after Sophie,” he said.

“Why don’t you just ask Sophie?” 

“What?” Howl looked up. “What good would that do? No, no, I need to talk to Lettie again…” 

Calcifer rolled his fiery eyes and flopped down onto his log with a crack.

**6**

Howl was deep in thought, sitting in his chair and drinking a cup of tea when Michael tiptoed down the stairs and sat down quickly on the stool next to Howl.

“Where’s Sophie?” Michael asked quietly.

“Asleep,” said Howl.

Michael glanced nervously toward the space under the stairs and lowered his voice even more. “Howl, I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Hold on,” Howl said. He waved his hand and the sheet that served as Sophie’s door fluttered. “Go ahead now,” Howl said, speaking at a normal volume. “What is it?”

Michael wrung his hands. “I was talking with Martha earlier, Martha Hatter, from Cesari’s? She’s Lettie Hatter’s sister, actually, they switched places—anyway, I happened to mention that I knew her great-aunt Sophie, because Sophie told me that Martha, well, Lettie actually, was her sister’s granddaughter, and—Howl, you’ll never believe it, Sophie is actually Martha’s  _ sister!” _

Michael finished saying this and sat staring wide-eyed at Howl, who was mystifyingly calm.

“Is that so?” said Howl.

“Yes! Martha said that Sophie is eighteen years old! So she must be doing a spell, or else she was cursed or something!”

“Hm…” said Howl. 

Calcifer looked up at them, his flickering face turning from Michael to Howl with interest.

“It’s a curse,” Calcifer burst out. “From the Witch of the Waste, most likely.”

Michael gasped. “Really? Can you get rid of it?”

“One would think,” muttered Howl. 

“Oh Howl, you’ll try, won’t you?” pleaded Michael. “Poor Sophie…”

“Yes, I’ll try,” said Howl. “But until we know what the Witch of the Waste was playing at, don’t mention anything to Sophie. Got it?”

Michael nodded solemnly. 

**7**

Howl was upset. Mrs. Pentstemmon was dead and Sophie was still cursed and Howl himself was now— 

“A  _ Royal Wizard!  _ Makes me want to gag,” he grumbled, pacing in front of the fireplace. 

“Yes, how awful for you,” said Calcifer sleepily. “You’re the most powerful wizard in the country. Disgusting.”

Howl shot Calcifer an icy look. “Just the country? Not likely.”

Calcifer sputtered with laughter, but Howl just grew more irritated.

“Enough is enough,” Howl said. “I’m getting that damn witch’s curse off Sophie  _ tonight _ .”

Howl stomped over to his workbench, where he spent several minutes scribbling runes on little scraps of paper and throwing ingredients together in a frenzy. He ended up with a small bowl of powder that he took to the curtain that covered Sophie’s bed. Calcifer leaned as far as he could out of the grate. Howl silently pulled open the curtain then appeared to freeze for several long moments.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered.

“What? What is it? I can’t see!” sizzled Calcifer. 

Howl staggered back to the chair by the hearth and sat down. He put his face in his hands… and laughed. 

“What?” Calcifer whined. “Did you do it?”

Howl looked up at him. “She’s… she…” He broke off, standing up again and walking back to Sophie’s bedside. He pulled back the curtain, leaned over Sophie very cautiously and slowly… then yanked the curtain shut again and walked back to Calcifer. 

“She’s young!” Howl whispered fiercely. “Not a wrinkle or grey hair to be seen. Damn it all, Calcifer, do you know what that means?”

Calcifer flared up. “No, tell me.” 

Howl clutched at his hair. “It means we  _ did  _ break the curse that day we saw the scarecrow. The rest has been Sophie keeping up that appearance herself! That’s the only reason it would be off while she’s asleep.”

Calcifer took a moment to process this. “But… why would she want us to think she’s still under a curse?”

Howl was thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t think that’s it…” he said. Then he walked over to Sophie’s bed again, looked at her, and walked back, smiling a little and shaking his head. “I’ve got an idea what she may be thinking, but she’ll never admit it in a hundred years. I swear, Calcifer, this woman will be the death of me.”

“All that worrying for nothing,” said Calcifer gloomily.

“Why are you upset now?” asked Howl.

“I told her I’d break her curse if she broke our contract. Now she’s bound to leave us first chance she gets.”

“No, she won’t. I think you and I still have a shot, Calcifer. Don’t write her off yet.”

Howl spent another long minute looking at Sophie before going upstairs to sleep.

**8**

It was still raining. Calcifer sulked in the hearth, occasionally poking his head toward the flue only to rear back when he heard the plinking of raindrops on the chimney cap far above. 

“Damn it all,” he sputtered. “What’s the point of being free if I can’t leave the castle anyway? Blasted weather. Can’t you do something about this, Howl?”

“Sorry, what?” Howl glanced up at Calcifer. “Did you say something?”

Calcifer flared up with a hiss. “Forget it. You’re more useless than ever. Look at you; you’ve been domesticated. What happened to the wizard who wanted to master dimensions? To unravel the secrets of the cosmos?”

Howl hummed noncommittally and brushed a strand of Sophie’s hair away from her face. They were settled onto a couch which Howl had conjured earlier that evening at the insistence of Mrs. Fairfax. He had to admit, it hadn’t been her worst idea. Sophie was now curled up next to him, fast asleep with her head on his shoulder. 

“Mm, maybe next week,” Howl said, leaning his head against Sophie’s and closing his eyes. “I’m busy at the moment.”


End file.
